Seasons - Rains Poem by Shankaran Kutty

In God’s own land when the rains do come
Skip does we, the season called autumn
For week after week it does nothing but rain
It pours and pours, seldom does wane

The rivers would with its bounty surge
Even by roadside, little streams emerge
Lightning lights up the dark evening sky
The sea roars with waves so high

The waves in anger crashes on the shore
But the rains won’t stop, there is more in store
The poor fisherman can’t go to sea
To fetch tasty fish for my sister and me

The puddles in my courtyard have grown to a pond
And to splash and get wet, we were so fond
From old newspaper we will make paper boat
In the courtyard pond, would then gently float

Strong winds through the trees would often wail
And trees would fall pulled out by the gale
Then many a day we would read with a sigh
That from the floods, did someone die

For two months and more it would be wet
To the rainy season our lives would be set
And then the Gods, seeing our plight
Would set the sun forth, shining bright